I kinda like Saturday mornings. Good old reliable, obliging Saturday mornings. Take a Saturday a few weeks ago.

We broke away from the usual Saturday breakfast at Paneraís and opted for the Cracker Barrel. Good food as usual, and we got to say hello to Larry Rhodes and his wife. Beloved Larry coached basketball at Ashbrook High School for a hundred years, has been retired for that long ó and still shows no pressure marks after time has slipped away.

Sipping coffee and reading the paper, I had just learned that Ashbrook had beaten an Asheville football team Friday night and mentioned that to Larry. He grinned and I pretended to hear him through my sometimes hearing aids. One thing I learned, however, was that the Rhodeses already had been to the farmerís market and would be having a tomato sandwich and a bunch of other stuff for lunch. Larry still has a strong appetite but knows when itís time to toss in the napkin.

Growing older for me is not as easy as it used to be. I remember when I retired from The Gazette in 1987. Easy to do. But I was only 62. There is more to do now at 88. And it takes longer to do it. Like going to the drug store. And the prescription counter. The ounce of prevention sometimes takes an hour of care. This time, the pharmacy had misplaced something that was surely necessary to fill our need, and a hectic chase was on. So I sat down, waiting for a magic potion to be found that would lead to discovering that which was lost. My wife, as always, had the situation well in hand.

And then two little angels appeared ó a little boy, 5, and his little sister, 3.The little girl sat down next to me and smiled her way into my heart. Her brother came over, following a grin that led the way.

We jabbered and I pretended to be dumber than I look (a difficult task). Told them that I had learned my ABCs, and did they know theirs. Big smiles said yes. Told them that I had to wash the dishes that morning. Did they? Big smiles. And denial.

Got out my camera and asked if they would like to have their picture taken. Big eyes. Big smiles. They look toward the lady standing in line, keeping an eye on them. She was close by. I asked her. She said that would be all right. So I shot one picture and big brother, as big brothers often do, held up two fingers behind his little sisterís head. Not in the first grade yet, but knows some things that are absolutely necessary when having pictures made with little sister.

We live in a world of pretend, but I was not pretending when I told them I enjoyed meeting them and that they had helped make it a good day for me. Special brother and special sister, those two. I just wish I hadnít lost their email address because if I had it now, I could send them copies of those two pictures. Maybe the magical wonders of email will find a way. (bwilliams6864@carolina.rr.com)

Page 2 of 2 - Bill Williams is a former editor of The Gazette and has contributed to its pages for more than 61 years.